Beside a towpath, one sunny day, Orace Hare and Rae Rabbit were under a bench smoking. They enjoyed such quiet moments most evenings, sitting back against the wood, legs outstretched and crossed, fag in paw, chatting away and allowing the smoke to casually drift as they exhaled. When one of their family happened by, they […]
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Words Have Power Read Aloud by Caroline Anderson Two blackbirds, Seth and Ted, sat on the park gate chewing the fat. ‘Hear any good ones lately?’ asked Seth. ‘Well, last night I was listening to one of those know-it-all types, you know, that self-help guru who meets his acolytes over there behind the bushes most
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‘Doomed, doomed from birth!’ Dora repeated the phrase to herself for the umpteenth time as she walked up to the cash till at her local co-op. ‘What was that dear?’ asked the cashier, ’Did you say Doom beer? We’re all out, but there’s a special on just now on this lot, six cans for the
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People are temporary, by nature evolving. Born as guests where all that is, precedes and succeeds us. Travellers in time and place blending in, fading out arriving, always leaving. Deriding or appreciating, depending on birth, or scent or season, in hope, the benefit of reason. We shift internally, provoking a need, a space to
Her thoughts circled round and around, squashing her awareness. She darted here and there under the Oak Tree, lacking focus. ‘I can’t trust them; I can’t trust anyone!’ Edna huffed aloud, gathering close a few more dropped acorns. Internally her voice droned on What is the point of forgiveness without trust? I can’t trust her,
The finality of it is what keeps surprising me. That there is no going back, just to clarify, just to see if we could, just to say hello. And the guilt, that there had been moments when I had wanted to speed it all up and others that I had wanted to slow. Now, just
Have you ever thought to yourself, ‘Could I have made a difference, a big difference if I had just begun? If I had made a quality decision and stuck with it back in the day, where would I be now in my life?’ In the summer of 2013 a group of my sister Raias’ friends,
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A story I wrote for our mother many moons ago. I found it saved in a folder of hers as I searched for birth certificates and the like to register her death. The wonders of technology allowed me to digitalise her printed copy. I did have to remove some references to old technology but otherwise,
